I have employments, which to my profession
Add profit and report; here I am lost,
And, in your wilful dulness, held a man
Of neither art nor honesty.

Command my head:-pray,

better

You may

take it, do! 'twere

For me to lose it, than to lose my wits,

And live in Bedlam; you will force me to't;
I am almost mad already.

Pal. I believe it.

Soph. Letters are come from Crete, which do require

A speedy restitution of such ships,

As by your father were long since detain'd;
If not, defiance threaten'd.

Are. These near parts

Of Syria that adjoin, muster their friends;
And by intelligence we learn for certain,
The Syrian will pretend an ancient interest
Of tribute intermitted.

Soph. Through your land

Your subjects mutter strangely, and imagine
More than they dare speak publicly.

Cuc. Hang 'em, mongrels!

Pal. Of me? my subjects talk of me!

And live in Bedlam.] As there were mad folks in Famagosta, there were doubtless receptacles for them. Ford, however, was thinking of Moorfields.

Cor. Yes, scurvily,

And think worse, prince.

Pal. I'll borrow patience

A little time to listen to these wrongs;

And from the few of you, which are here present, Conceive the general voice.

Cor. So now he's nettled.

[Aside.

Pal. By all your loves. I charge you, without

fear

Or flattery, to let me know your thoughts,
And how I am interpreted: Speak boldly.

Soph. For my part, sir, I will be plain, and brief.
I think you are of nature mild and easy,
Not willingly provok'd, but withall headstrong
In any passion that misleads your judgment:
I think you too indulgent to such motions.
As spring out of your own affections;
Too old to be reform'd, and yet too young
To take fit counsel from yourself, of what
Is most amiss.

Pal. So!-Tutor, your conceit?

Are. I think you doat (with pardon let me speak

it)

Too much upon your pleasures; and these pleasures
Are so wrapt up in self-love, that you covet
No other change of fortune: would be still
What your birth makes you; but are loth to toil
In such affairs of state as break your sleeps.

Cor. I think you would be by the world re-
puted

A man, in every point complete; but are

In manners and effect indeed a child,

A boy, a very boy.

Pel. May it please your grace,

I think you

do contain within yourself The great elixir, soul and quintessence Of all divine perfections; are the glory Of mankind, and the only strict example

For earthly monarchs to square out their lives by:

Time's miracle! Fame's pride! in knowledge, wit, Sweetness, discourse, arms, arts,

Pal. You are a courtier.

Cuc. But not of the ancient fashion, an it like your highness. 'Tis I; I that am the credit of the court, noble prince; and if thou would'st, by proclamation or patent, create me overseer of all the tailors in thy dominions, then, then the golden days should appear again! bread should be cheaper; fools should have more wit; knaves more honesty, and beggars more money.

Gri. I think now

Cuc. Peace, you squall!

Pal. You have not spoken yet.

[To Rhetias.

Cuc. Hang him! he'll nothing but rail.
Gri. Most abominable;-out upon him!
Cor. Away, Cuculus; follow the lords.
Cuc. Close, page, close.

[They all silently withdraw, but RHE. and PAL.
Pal. You are somewhat long a'thinking.
Rhe. I do not think at all.

Pal. Am I not worthy of your thought?

Rhe. My pity, you are;-but not my reprehension.

Pal. Pity!

Rhe. Yes, for I pity such to whom I owe service, who exchange their happiness for a misery. Pal. Is it a misery to be a prince?

Rhe. Princes who forget their sovereignty, and yield to affected passion, are weary of command.— You had a father, sir.

Pal. Your sovereign, whilst he lived:-but what of him?

Rhe. Nothing.

I only dared to name him,—that is all.

Pal. I charge thee, by the duty that thou ow'st

us,

Be plain in what thou mean'st to speak; there's something

That we must know: be free; our ears are open.

Rhe. O, sir, I had rather hold a wolf by the ears than stroke a lion; the greatest danger is the last. Pal. This is mere trifling.—Ha! are all stol'n

hence?

We are alone-thou hast an honest look.—
Thou hast a tongue, I hope, that is not oil'd
With flattery: be open. Though 'tis true,
That in my younger days I oft have heard
Agenor's name, my father, more traduced,
Than I could then observe; yet I protest,
I never had a friend, a certain friend,

That would inform me throughly of such errors,
As oftentimes are incident to princes.

Rhe. All this may be. I have seen a man so curious in feeling of the edge of a keen knife, that he has cut his fingers. My flesh is not proof

against the metal I am to derer than the other.

handle; the one is ten

Pal. I see then I must court thee. Take the word

Of a just prince; for any thing thou speakest
I have more than a pardon, thanks and love.

Rhe. I will remember you of an old tale, that something concerns you. Meleander, the great but unfortunate statesman, was by your father treated with, for a match between you and his eldest daughter, the lady Eroclea: you were both near of an age.-I presume you remember a contract, and cannot forget her.

Pal. She was a lovely beauty-prithee forward! Rhe. To court was Eroclea brought; was courted by your father, not for prince Palador, as it followed, but to be made a prey to some less noble design. With your favour, I have forgot

the rest.

Pal. Good, call it back again into thy memory; Else, losing the remainder, I am lost too.

Rhe. You charm me. In brief, a rape by some bad agents was attempted; by the lord Meleander her father rescued; she conveyed away; Meleander accused of treason, his land seized, he himself distracted and confined to the castle,

You charm me.] You overpower my reluctance to speak; and accordingly Rhetias feels no further difficulty in disclosing himself.